“I bet you do.”
“Come here on Friday night. Let me give you some therapy. I promise I’ll work you so hard you’ll sleep for days.”
“I can’t.” She sounded almost regretful. “I have the boys. Or Michael, at least.”
“Then another day. You name the time, I’ll be here.” He wanted to see her naked. To kiss her everywhere until she was gasping. He wasn’t lying about working her out. He had more energy than he knew what to do with.
And he wanted to use it on her.
“It’s not a good idea, Cam.” Her voice was soft. It curled around him like a blanket.
“Why not?”
“I told you. The kids. They don’t deserve having their mom talked about in town. And I’m trying to build up a reputation at work. I don’t want it to be for the wrong reasons.”
“And if I promised you nobody would find out?”
“Somebody always finds out.”
His lip quirked. “That’s because people are stupid. Come just once.” He laughed. “I mean, come here just once. I’ll make sure you come plenty more times than once.”
Her breath hitched. “Cam, I…”
“Don’t answer now. Think about it. I’m gonna hang up and go to bed, because I’m not the kind of man who begs.”
She didn’t respond, but he could hear her breathing soft and low.
“Touch yourself tonight. Think about how good I’d feel inside you. I know I’ll be thinking about that.”
Her breath was heavier now.
“You still there?” he asked, though he knew she was.
“Yeah.”
“Are you touching yourself?” Jesus, he was aching. It was his turn to feel breathless.
“Not yet.”
Not yet. Which means she was planning to. If one of her laughs felt like winning a game, this admission felt like winning the damn Superbowl.
“Good night, Mia. Sleep tight.” he said, adjusting himself because right now he could drill a hole through a rock. He needed a cold shower. Stat.
There was another long pause, then a sigh. “Good night, Cam.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Okay, team, we’re done for tonight.” Coach Hawkins clapped his hands together. “Go home, get some food inside you, and I'll see you tomorrow after school.”
Cam nodded at the defensive team, who’d been running drills with him. Sweat was dripping from his head – he’d never ask them to do anything he wouldn’t do with them. “Good work,” he told them. “Those tackles are getting better.” They’d been working on creating turnovers from offensive running plays. It had been fun to play offense for a change, letting the team try to block his runs toward the end zone. Like them, he was exhausted now. He really needed to up his training.
Tomorrow he’d go running twice. If he couldn’t keep up with a high school team, he was definitely losing it.
“Before you all go, I need a couple of volunteers,” Coach called out at the team’s retreating backs. “The local pee wee team is short a co
uple of coaches, and I thought it could be a chance to give back. You’ll be needed Saturday mornings at nine. Anybody up for it?”
There were a few murmurs about Saturday jobs, and wanting to sleep in, before one of the Varsity players put his hand up. “I guess I could help. My kid brother’s on the team.”